


Crooked Arrow

by ismellitblue



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:00:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ismellitblue/pseuds/ismellitblue
Summary: A day in the life of Larry Trainor-the straightest man the sixties had ever seen-not.
Relationships: John Bowers/Larry Trainor, Larry Trainor/Sheryl Trainor





	Crooked Arrow

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Doom Patrol.

He’s beautiful, Larry thinks, taking him in while the other sleeps-unaware of Larry’s gaze. For a moment he lets himself dream. He imagines what it would be like to stay till morning. Watch the sunlight paint John’s skin gold, and kiss the freckles on his back. He wants to go out in the daylight with him, hold his hand and open doors for him.

Slow dance to Moon river, and share random kisses in public… _unafraid_.

But Larry’s not just a monster, he’s a coward too. So as quietly as he can, he rises from the bed,sparring a brief stolen moment to drop a chaste kiss on John’s forehead. The other stirs and Larry holds still, only moving once he’s sure John won’t wake up.

He dresses quietly, his neatly folded clothes not daring to crease. He combs his hair methodically, and once every strand is in place, he makes his way out the door. He doesn’t look back, can’t bring himself to.

The house is quiet when he arrives, it’s way past the boys’ bedtime and Sheryl has long stopped waiting up for him. When he gets into bed, she doesn’t even stir( unlike John,who’d unconciously felt it when Larry’d left).

He and Sheryl sleep with their backs turned to each other. Whenever he and John share a bed, they always meet half way, and Larry often sleeps with the steady thump of John’s heart against his cheek. It’s comforting-warm- and no matter how many times he tries to recreate the natural feel of it with Sheryl, the wrongness of it overwhelms him.

But it shouldn’t feel wrong-it’s natural- he’s the one who’s wrong, _unnatural_.

He falls asleep alternating between cursing himself and praying for god’s forgiveness, begging to be spared the hell fire his soul will face because of his urges.

_He’ll do better, He’ll do better, He…_


End file.
